Would it Matter?
by 2theSky
Summary: Everyone has bad days... and Beck's had one after another for a while. Maybe it's all just too much... (Title from Skillet's "Would it Matter?")


"Where were you THIS time?!"

Beck sighed, the ache in his chest inching up into his throat, leaving him with only one response for Mara's fury-infused question; he shook his head, his stare drilling holes through the sleek alabaster floor of the garage.

Mara rolled her eyes, the blue surrounding the pounding black pupils blazing with ice. "It's always like this anymore! You don't want to hang out with us, you're never around, Zed's always picking up your shifts- I'm surprised Able didn't fire you yet!"

"I'm sor-"

"Save it!" Mara's hands went to her hips, the nearly empty garage fading darker as the already darkened skies faded to a deeper blue, causing shadows to fall across the floor from the light cycles and the Occupation's tanks. "I'm sick of you always avoiding us! If you don't want to be friends with us, then just say it already!"

Beck's eyes widened; that wasn't it at all! If only Mara and Zed could see it... He nearly choked as he tried to set things right, somewhat, saying, "Mara, that's not-"

"Just leave me alone," Mara grumbled, turning away from him and stepping into the elevator. Beck stared at the translucent doors and floor of the elevator as it carried Mara up to her room. He sighed and tore his eyes away from it, realizing that Zed, who was right next door to Mara's room, would probably find out everything... and then, because of the blasted walls not containing any conversation, no matter how private, everyone else would know...

He spun around, heading past the few mechanics left who were sweeping up the pieces of engines or brake systems or energy packs that had broken and busted in their hands as they wrenched them from the vehicles for make room for a piece or part that worked better; of course, they'd overheard the whole blasted thing and were probably staring at him, or maybe glaring. Beck didn't bother looking up; he already knew what his friends thought of him...

What was the point? He clenched his fists, not in anger- in pain, and bit his lip, keeping his eyes directed on the floor, his feet crunching on a few bits and pixels that had yet to be swept up. He stopped for a second, looking at a broken handle bar inches form his foot and sighed. He found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from the blue edge where the pixels gleamed, showing that a disc, not a tool like usual, had been used to remove it...

He shook his head and started walking again, heading for the door. He knew all too well what those broken, battered and busted components felt like; he felt like he'd been stuffed inside the engine, then broken down and finally manipulated and cut and sliced and twisted until he came out from the hole he'd been crammed into...

Beck felt broken.

"Beck..."

Looked up and turned just slightly. Glanced up at the voice, then looked back at the pale blue and deep blue circuits winding around his foot and leg. Besides, after what Mara had done to him, he wasn't in any kind of shape to look up and face Able.

Able sighed, watching as Beck looked away... His dark hands clenched into fists in the same manner Beck's had, though his were in anger, not the agony that had fueled Beck's. He stepped out of the door of his office, wondering how his friend, and employee, had become so quiet... he wasn't the happy, carefree young program that he'd first met quite a while ago. In the last four cycles, ever since he'd sent him on that errand and he'd come back a little late... Beck had become more tense, and more secluded. "She'll cool down, Beck," Able tried to reassure, stepping next to Beck.

Beck, shorter than Able, refused to look up at that- he, instead, rubbed his wrists from where Cyrus' machine had ripped them to, basically, shreds of highly fragile code. "Yeah... thanks..." He flashed Able a small smile, then returned to his broken state and Able frowned as Beck walked past; was he limping? Able shook his head and turned for the elevators. Forget meeting in his office with Mara and Zed for recently drilling their friend into the ground- the Renegade had far too much going on. Beck looked exhausted, almost derezzed on his feet. Tron needed to know just how bad things were for Beck right now- no revolution was won in just one cycle.

And no revolution was won without it's leader.

...

Beck threw his head in his hands, his temples throbbing, the code beneath them pulsing angrily.

Mara hated him.

Zed probably did too.

And Tron...

Beck almost laughed. Tron... He couldn't do anything right as far as Tron was concerned. He was probably the biggest failure Tron had ever encountered. He was sure Tron was still fuming about him using the Occupation's upgrade. But.. it was either use it, or let Shaw's device fall back into their hands and the revolution die. And now... after battling Cyrus...

He wasn't sure where he belonged... if he belonged at all...

**"If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anybody care? If my time was up, I wanna know you were happy I was there. If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anyone lose sleep? If I wasn't hard and hollow, then maybe you would miss me..."**

He sighed. Whether he was Beck or the Renegade... it just seemed like he messed up everything. Maybe no one would notice the internal turmoil that was ripping him apart. Maybe he could just fix himself... it wasn't like he could rewrite any codes or have a medic fix this... even Flynn couldn't fix it.

**"I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone, someone that I like better. I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever..."**

Beck gasped for a couple nanocycles, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat...

what was the point?

...

Paige was ticked.

No, beyond ticked.

There was damage out on one of the roads that wove through the outlands towards Gallium, some sort of storm=powered explosion or something, and she'd been put in charge of the blasted clean-up... She kicked a tiny rock, splitting the code that made up the tiny pebble, and glared at it as he traveling into the water of the docks. It was almost curfew. She didn't care though. She was Commander Paige, and if anyone asked, she was out on patrol. Tesler would approve that, and if he didn't, she could just say she was looking for the Renegade.

"Can't believe he-"she broke off the sentence, trying to strangle the air. It wasn't right! After all Tesler had done for her, and then after all she'd done in return-

"What's the point?"

Paige jumped, her brown eyes flicked with a dull orange as she glanced around, the voice unnerving her. "Quiet, scared, sad," she listed what she noticed about the voice out loud, though just as quietly as the voice, heading in it's direction...

"No one even understands! I can't please any of them! I just screw up everything!"

She froze. Whoever this program was, they were ripping themselves apart with each angst-filled word.

**"What if I just pulled myself together? Would it matter at all? What if I just try not to remember? Would it matter at all? All the chances that have passed me by- would it matter if I gave it one more try? Would it matter at all?"**

Paige shook her head and stepped closer, the voice breaking off in a cough; she stopped midstep again. That was a cough that she'd heard as a medic many times, especially when a program had pushed themselves too hard... it meant their coding was unstable, too weak to function normally-

This program needed help.

Her help.

...

Beck felt everything spin. He was exhausted, and everything hurt; every kick or punch from the fights with the Black Guards, every time he'd gotten grazed in the Games, every painful word...

It was all piling up.

**"If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anybody care? Still stuck inside this sorrow, I've got nothing and going nowhere..."**

He jumped, nearly falling off the box he was sitting on, as he heard footsteps echo throughout the docks, causing him to shiver. Beck grabbed his disc and activated the bright white of Tron's suit, his dark suit vanishing. He swayed for a nanocycle as he got to his feet, then balanced himself, glancing at the "T" gleaming on his chest, the hope that he usually found in it just a numb throbbing sensation where Cyrus had drilled into him with his fist in that same spot.

Whoever it was, he was going to make sure he didn't fail in getting away from them; he had a bad feeling about who was coming around the corner as their shadow appeared...

...

"YOU!"

Paige couldn't believe it... she was sure that the program she was after was ready to derezz, an innocent program ready to just drop to the ground in a pile of pixels.

And here it was the Renegade.

She drew her disc, the orange edge of it blazing the same color as her circuits; she lunged at him, just missing his throat as all he did was stumble backwards. He took a moment to grab his disc, notably swaying like he was going to fall over. She frowned, then returned instantly to her icy glare.

After fighting him for only a few nanocycles, it was clear that he was weak. The Renegade's usually impressive speed and accuracy had gone out the window as he fell to the ground instead of raising his disc to avoid a blow. He jumped up, nearly falling back to his knees; he swung at Paige, no force behind the swing of his white white-hot disc feeble. Paige kicked his hand out of the way, surprised that he didn't drop his disc. He winced at the contact, though, and Paige's frown returned. He wasn't supposed to be this weak... was he?

**"I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone, someone that I like better. I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever..."**

In Paige's mindset, this was pathetic; the Renegade had tricked her and now he was fighting like he'd drank some overly concentrated energy that had overloaded his circuits and messed up his judgement. She was sick of this. "You're just pathetic," she hissed, her fist connecting with the Renegade's helmet, sending him to the ground. "JUST PATHETIC!"

To her surprise, the Renegade, scrambled backwards away from her before she could even move and he was stumbling to his feet, running.

Paige heard wheezing... distorted wheezing and stared after him. He wasn't faking anything...

...

Beck collapsed to the ground, his breathing loud wheezes and desperate gasps for air. He had pushed himself past any sensible limit... his coding wasn't taking the strain well at all. He was too tired to care anyway. No one else cared though... so why should he?

**"If I live tomorrow, would anybody care? Stuck in this sorrow, going nowhere. All the chances that have passed me by- would it matter if I gave it one more try? Would it matter at all?"**

He stretched out on the cold, harsh ground, the Renegade suit fading back to his usual dark one as he coughed, feeling too weak to stand if he wanted to. If the Occupation picked him up at this point for being passed out on the ground in the middle of the outlands after curfew, then let them; he had no reason to care. Yeah, he got a little... angered... with some things, but it was justified! And yeah, he was never at work, but he had excellent... and deadly... reason!

"They wouldn't care," he muttered, shaking as the snow fell faster around him.

And the sad thing wasn't entirely that he thought that- it was that it was basically true. It-

Beck shivered, his fingers clawing at the frozen ground as he felt the energy drain slowly. It hurt, but not as much as the sound of an approaching light cycle rocketing around inside his head. Whoever was coming probably didn't care either. But it didn't matter; he passed out before he had the chance to care.

* * *

"Whoa..."

Beck nearly fell out of his bed, flying straight up. He stood up, shaking. "That..." he took a couple deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves, "that was... unnerving..."

That dream wasn't so good. He'd thought that... that no one would care... if he derezzed... that was crazy... right?

"Beck, what are you doing?!"

Beck stared at Able as he rushed in, a bottle of gleaming energy in his one hand, the other gently pushing Beck back down towards the bed, getting him to lay down. "What... what happened?"

Able stared at Beck, his dark eyes wide. "Beck, you passed out in the middle of the outlands and SOMEONE brought you back here before you could fall to bits!"

Beck stared back, suddenly exhausted and shaky. So that dream... was real?!

No, no, no, NO! He swallowed, his throat sore and dry. He felt like he was in that dream. He had really, truly, thought it was a dream! The whole thing... Mara screaming at him... him fighting Paige... it...

**"If I live tomorrow, would anybody care? Stuck in this sorrow, going nowhere..."**

Beck watched as Able poured a tall, thin glass of energy, then stepped closer to the bed. He smiled sadly at Beck. "You're not working for a few cycles, here..." he leaned closer to make sure no one heard, "or with Tron."

Wait... was he really that weak? He steadied his hand, taking the glass of energy Able had offered. Tron was going to be beyond ticked... and Zed was going to be really to stick his disc through him for having more double shifts piled onto his schedule. If he thought everyone already hated him... what would they think now?

Able seemed to know his every thought as he crossed his arms after picking up the glowing green blankets that had fallen to the floor when Beck woke up. "Don't worry about them. Zed doesn't have the shifts, and Tron's actually just trying to make some repairs to the healing chamber. And Mara..."

Beck looked away, already overwhelmed by what Able had said; he was too tired.

"Mara's cooled down. She was just frazzled."

Beck still didn't look up. It had hurt... everyone's words and actions... it just burned him to the core...

Able noticed Beck's hurt expression. "I think we all are."

Frazzled... Beck looked up, wishing Able knew just how frazzled he was... but maybe... he almost smirked at the thought... a little rest couldn't kill him...

* * *

_-someone suggested that i do a couple oneshots for Tron, and... well, i had some time, so... hope it wasn't all that bad ;)_

_lyrics from Skillet "Would it Matter?"_

___God bless! :)_


End file.
